


A Plot by Mistletoe Bot

by mylifeisloki



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: ACTUAL FLUFF, Christmas fic!, F/M, For the most part, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-01 23:56:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2792348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylifeisloki/pseuds/mylifeisloki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Christmas fic based on this prompt- "Our landlord went a little overboard on the mistletoe, didn't he?" Steve and Natasha negotiate a Stark-approved attempt to get Steve into the Christmas spirit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Plot by Mistletoe Bot

Back in the day, Steve's holidays were simple celebrations. When he was a kid, they were spent eagerly awaiting Santa Claus knowing very well that if he was lucky, he'd be getting a slightly used toy or a new set of pencils to draw with. Christmases spent with his mother weren't affluent or anything, since they had very little, but they were warm and genuine. After church, they would go back to their little house and share a small meal, followed by presents under the tree Steve had meticulously decorated just a few days ago. Once Bucky came into the picture, he would join them.

Once the depression hit, everything that had been warm about Christmas sagged under the weight of the financial difficulties that plagued most families, already poor ones more than anyone else. While Steve's mother worked hard to keep a roof over their heads, Steve did what he could by selling sketches to rich men and women in the city, a nickel a piece. Christmas was very, very sparse that year and no one had the spirit to really try.

After Steve's mother passed away, Christmas changed. Suddenly, it was up to him and Bucky to make sure there was a tree and presents and warm, home cooked meals for the holidays. They did what they could, but it was still kind of a struggled for a few years, until Steve graduated and managed to get himself into art school for a year. More people paid for his drawings and when he left there to get a job as a newspaper boy, they started making a regular living. By the time the war hot, Christmas had become a day of traditions; ham when they could afford it, beers, a night spent exchanging gifts and just talking until they couldn't keep their eyes open anymore. It was simple, and it was heartfelt.

Then, of course, the Christmas that passed while they were in the service was unlike anything either of them had gone through before. Presents consisted of a drawing of a pin-up girl that Steve handed to Bucky with a wide smile and a slightly used box of charcoals Bucky had found somewhere on their travels. They shared a drink at a bar on Christmas Eve as they always did, but Christmas Day was just another mission. That was their last Christmas together. It was a shame it had to be spent in the middle of a war zone. 

None of that could have prepared Steve for Christmas at Stark Tower. Two weeks before Christmas, he wandered into the main living room to find that there were boxes _everywhere_ and it looked like St. Nick himself had thrown up all over the place. “What the hell?”

Tony popped out from behind a truly massive Christmas tree and beamed. “Never seen a Christmas tree before, Cap? I get that they didn't have them in the stone ages, but--”

Steve pressed his lips together and crossed his arms over his chest, giving Tony an unimpressed look. “Are you compensating for something?”

Rolling his eyes, the genius came out from behind the tree, garland draped around his neck, and shook his head. “Where's your Christmas spirit, Rogers? This free is gonna be fucking spectacular by the time I'm done with it.”

“Yeah,” someone else added, and Steve glanced up to see Clint basically hanging from the rafters to decorate the top of the tree. “Figured you'd be all into this, Steve.”

Steve didn't understand why there was so much  _glitter_ . He didn't understand why Christmas had become so incredibly commercial and plastic instead of meaningful. “You two need a hobby,” he mumbled, leaving the room to continue down the hallway on his own.

The decorating continued, and continued, and continued. Nearly a week of preparations left the main floor of the Tower looking like Macy's window and then some. First of all, there was glitter just about everywhere. Steve was starting to find glitter on his clothes and in his hair when he went back to his room at the end of the day. The tree was covered in glass ornaments and sparkling garland, a huge start at the top, but that was hardly the most garish thing going on. No, there were also snowflakes and fake snow spray painted on the large windows surrounding the sitting area, decorations on most of the walls, displays of nutcrackers and gingerbread families and elves and angels and fucking reindeer all over the place. When Steve found himself in the doorway, he just stood there for a minute and took it all in, blinking rapidly in alarm. 

Just as he decided to leave because his head was starting to spin, a whirring sound made him look up and he found himself under a tiny, flying robot carrying a sprig of mistletoe. How festive. Sighting, he turned to ignore it and jumped nearly ten feet when he came face to face with Natasha instead. “You have  _got_ to stop sneaking up on me,” he huffed, relaxing again.

She smirked and Steve felt the warmth spread through his chest like he always did when she was around. It was like the whole world was this changing, confusing, moving thing and then Natasha was just... calm. If he focused on her, he might not get swept away in everything else. “Tony and Clint went a little overboard, I see,” she observed, glancing pointedly at the empty boxes all wrapped up in brightly colored paper and huge bows just to complete the look until the real presents got there.

“You could say that,” he answered dryly, shaking his head and glancing up again as the little robot above them beeped impatiently. Natasha looked up too, and Steve smiled sheepishly. “One for the holidays?”

Despite any feelings he had for her, Steve wasn't all that shy about leaning down and pecking Natasha on the lips. They'd kissed before and with the laid back environment of the team itself, it was no big deal. Apparently satisfied, the mistletoe-bot went on its way and Steve shook his head. “Something tells me we'll be seeing a lot of that thing.”

But Steve didn't know the half of it.

Every time he turned a corner, that thing was hovering over his head. If he didn't know any better, he'd say he was being stalked because in two days, just two days, he'd been caught under that damn mistletoe no less than eight times. That would be, in order:

In the living room that first time.

In the kitchen that evening.

In the kitchen again the next morning.

In the lobby when he came back from his jog.

In the elevator, which he didn't even understand because he could have sworn that thing wasn't in there when he got on.

In the gym.

On the balcony while he was sketching the view.

Living roo--

“You've got to be kidding,” he muttered in disbelief, watching the bot come soaring in from out of fucking nowhere to hang above his head. And, as had been the case the last twenty times, Natasha was right there beside him. Steve was feeling particularly victimized, not that he _minded_ kissing Natasha, but this was getting awkward! “You don't have to kiss me again,” he told her, as if she didn't already know. “I swear to God, I'm not telling that thing to do this.”

And just as she had the last seven times, Natasha shrugged and leaned over, kissing him on the lips. Over time, the kisses had become a little more lingering, warm.. like they were real. Steve found his lips coaxed barely apart by hers and it was all good for the few seconds she stayed there, one hand on his jaw. He swallowed as she pulled away, licking his lips and staring as she left the room, but turned his eyes up as the bot above him beeped happily. “Shut up,” he grumbled, going right back to the book he was reading before.

At first, he thought it was just because he was home a lot, and because he was around Natasha a lot. He figured the others were being put in similarly awkward situations as well. Hell, he even thought about the possibility that there might be more than one bot floating around. For a few minutes, he considered complaining to Tony, but that would mean Tony had won somehow, so he said nothing. The thing was that as Christmas came closer and the others began spending more time at home to celebrate, Steve realized that he was entirely alone in being hunted by the Mistle-bot. Well, not  _alone_ , because Natasha--

“Can we just try something?” The bot beeped over them again and Steve crossed his arms over his chest, glaring up at the stupid thing. “What are you gonna do, huh? We're not kissing again.”

Natasha arched an eyebrow and watched in amusement as Steve had a slightly flustered one-sided argument with a machine. There was a long pause- about a solid three minutes of intermittent beeping- before the machine beeped several times in rapid succession, began to let out a high-pitched whine, and launched a rope of sorts, quickly winding it around them so they were pressed up against each other, chest to chest. Or, well.. Natasha's head to Steve's chest. “ _Tony!_ ”

The genius appeared too quickly for comfort and snickered at the image of a still amused Black Widow literally tied to Captain America, her face squished against his chest and his face slowly turning a fierce shade of red from both anger and embarrassment. “Let us out,” he demanded. “Now.”

Tony crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged. “You've got to kiss, and it'll let you go. Got me and Bruce caught in a trap like that just a few days ago. I'm proud to say that I've now tasted science and it tastes damn good.” 

Steve sighed heavily, tilting his head down while Natasha carefully tilted hers up. A quick peck loosened the ropes and soon enough, they were freed. But Tony wasn't satisfied. “That's it?”

The look in his eyes made Steve very, very nervous.

The next day, the little bot found Steve and Natasha on the balcony, both wrapped up in thick blankets and sweaters, hands wrapped around mugs of hot chocolate. “Do you think if maybe we kissed a little longer, it would leave us alone for a while?”

Steve blinked. He hadn’t considered that, actually. “I don’t think it works like that,” he said slowly. “But if you wanna try, I’m game.” 

Apparently, he didn’t have to say more than that. Natasha gracefully unfolded her legs and set her hot chocolate down on the little table beside them, prompting Steve to do the same just as the mistletoe flew right over them yet again. She wasn’t shy at all about moving closer to him and arranging herself on his lap, arms draped over his shoulders. The bot beeped happily again and Steve shot a glare up at it, leaving Natasha to narrowly miss his mouth and kiss his chin instead. 

She huffed and Steve smiled, laughing a little at how put out she looked. “Should I be staying very still?” he teased. Natasha made a face at him for a moment before leaning forward again and locking their lips together, her fingers lightly tracing his jaw. For a moment, Steve kissed back the way he always did, but it was clear after some time that Natasha had no intention of pulling back.

His brow creased and Steve willingly parted his lips for her, flattening a hand on her back as she licked into his mouth. When Natasha went for something, she really went for it- honestly, he shouldn’t have been surprised. But what was this? Was this just something friends who were really close did? And yet another question—why did it feel so fucking normal?

Under their thick blankets, he felt her legs spread to bracket his hips and his hand slid up of its own accord, carefully cupping the back of her head. When they parted, Steve had to suck in a breath to get his brain going again, but everything remained a little foggy even as Natasha gave him a satisfied smirk and moved away again, going right back to her hot chocolate. The bot beeped and whirred, flying back into the living room and leaving them blessedly alone- Natasha sipping her hot chocolate like nothing had happened, Steve nursing his own drink while he desperately tried to push down the involuntary reactions his body was pitting him against.

After that, Steve could have sworn that the bizarre behavior of Tony’s little mistletoe-bot increased ten-fold. Steve was on high alert and he actually managed to avoid being caught under it for about a day and a half—through dishonest means and a lot of time spent out of the Tower. However, when he made the mistake of going into the living room and turning his back while he spread his wrapped presents out, he heard the unmistakable sound of something hovering over his head. And who should be beside him but Natasha, also placing several meticulously wrapped presents under the tree. 

“We just keep meeting like this,” he quipped, leaning in for their customary peck to make the robot go away. Natasha's idea didn't work, apparently. But their lips met and the bot… hovered, beeping down at them in dissatisfaction that didn’t make sense to Steve. “Problem?”

It would seem that yes, there was quite a problem. The machine beeped and whirred and whined at them, ignoring Steve’s questioning as he steadily became more and more annoyed. “What do you want?” he asked. “We kissed. Go away, goddamnit.” He even leaned down and pecked Natasha’s lips again, then again, and again—“I swear to God, I’m going to rip every little gear out of you— What do you _want_? Was that not enough for you? You want more? _Fine._ ”

Turning back to Natasha, Steve cupped the back of her head again and pressed their lips together, intending on doing it for spite- so the damn thing would go away. But before he knew it, Natasha was gripping his shirt and Steve was tilting his head and parting his lips to give her tongue entrance again. Honestly, he barely registered what was happening, but when their lips parted again, Natasha was on her back on the rug beneath the tree and Steve was hovering over her, his hand on her waist. As they stared at each other, neither daring to make a move, the bot whirred happily and flew off, leaving Steve to handle the mess he’d just made.

“Nat,” he breathed. “I’m sorry. Ah, what are the chances of you forgiving me for that?”

To her credit, save for the lightest dusting of pink on her cheeks, Natasha looked entirely unaffected by it and Steve took a second to question himself because to him, the kiss had been nothing short of amazing. Obviously, he was alone in that. “Don’t even worry about it,” she answered, reaching up to pat his cheek. 

When she was gone, Steve pushed a hand through his hair and rubbed at his scalp, unsure of what to make of all this. “Hey, JARVIS?” he asked eventually, already wondering why he hadn’t thought of this before. “Can you tell me what Tony’s got in mind with all this?”

The AI paused for a moment before responding, probably taking that time to question Steve’s intelligence. “At first, I believe Mr. Stark had MT following you around in a misguided attempt to get you into the holiday spirit. Now, sir… He’s reprogrammed MT to follow you and Ms. Romanov specifically. He also changed the specifics of the programming to make MT a learning robot, which means---“

That since they’d kissed long and hard once, the robot wanted them to do it again. He was going to kill Tony, and that was regardless of the fact that he _really_ enjoyed kissing Natasha. Stomping down to the lab, he punched in his code and stepped inside to find Tony and Bruce singing along to cheesy Christmas carols and shook his head. “J, off. Please.” 

The music cut and Tony groaned. “Does the Grinch still need a lesson in Christmas spirit?” He headed over to Steve and poked him in the chest. “Your heart is three sizes too small, Grandpa.” 

Steve frowned and stepped forward, forcing Tony back as he did. “I don’t know what’s going through your head, but if you don’t make that robot leave me the hell alone---“

“Hey, hey,” he protested, still stepping backwards as Steve advanced. “Don’t blame me for the learning capabilities. I don’t do shoddy work, Rogers. And besides, don’t you think Nat would have torn me a new one if she had a problem with it?” 

Wait. Wait; as much as Steve hated to admit it, Tony had a point. Natasha hadn’t said a word about it and she was _not_ one to do something she didn’t want to do. When they’d kissed earlier, she could have shoved him off of her several hundred different ways, probably using only her legs, and she hadn’t. He stopped there and stared down at Tony while he thought about it. Maybe _two_ people were screwing with him.

The day before Christmas Eve and Steve was already being given a present.

The next day was Tony’s Christmas gathering for the team. They would have a dinner cooked by Steve and Thor, the only two who could make more than a few simple dishes in order to survive, and then they would settle in the living room to exchange gifts by the tree and a now roaring fire. It would seem, based on the fact that he’d been left alone so far, that Tony had let up for the celebrations as far as any little bots went. 

Despite his previous objections, Steve settled onto the couch feeling really good about spending this time with his surrogate family. Gifts were handed out one at a time and opened with rapt attention paid to each- Steve got Thor a subscription to Omaha Steaks, Tony got Natasha an incredibly rare blade made in Russia with a jeweled handle, Steve managed to find an autographed, first edition copy of a book he thought Bruce might like… It was very nice, on the whole. Opening the new set of pastels that Natasha had bought for him was a particularly good moment and Steve hugged her tight, thanking her by making sure that the drawing he’d made her was put into her hands next.

When everything was opened, they toasted to good friends and a damn good year and parted ways to either examine their new gifts or just hang out in the living room with each other. Natasha stood at the windows, watching snow fall and slowly pile up on the balcony and Steve made sure the others were occupied before moving to stand beside her. “Thanks again,” he offered. “For the pastels. They’re amazing.” 

She smiled and glanced over to him, arching her eyebrow. “I could say the same thing about your drawing. Who knew you were so talented?” 

He chuckled and rubbed at the back of his neck. “You did,” he reminded her. “But thanks. I appreciate that.” 

They stood in comfortable silence for a few minutes, both watching the snow fall outside. When Steve finally spoke up, he tried not to doubt himself- he did not _need_ mistletoe to kiss Natasha. He could do it all on his own.

“There, uh… There was one more thing I wanted to give you, if that’s okay.” 

She turned to him again and Steve turned as well, stepping closer and lifting one hand to touch her cheek. “Merry Christmas, Nat.” Bending down to her, he pressed their lips together and again, her hands were on his chest, gripping the front of his shirt like she could pull him closer that way. When they parted, Steve didn’t move back, his breath tangling with hers between them.

“See that?” Someone was talking in the now relatively silent room- probably Tony whispering to Bruce. “I did that. That was all me. Someone take note.” 

Natasha slid her hands up to his face, cupping his cheeks for a moment before bringing their lips back together. How could he help winding his arms around her waist, locking them behind her and lifting her up so he didn’t have to bend to make up for the height difference between them. Whatever the others were saying, it was like they were all alone in the world. She led him to his room that night with one hand on his belt, dragging him after her and smirking like she'd only been waiting for him to make his move.  


The next morning, when Steve woke up to Natasha curled into a little ball beside him, her face relaxed for once and entirely peaceful save for a little crease between her brows, he knew that this would be forever labeled the best Christmas he’d ever had.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


End file.
